


On Stormy Days the Same

by literati42



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Boys In Love, Cuddles, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Faramir deserves a hug, Fluff, M/M, Mental Health Issues, soft, Éomer gives good hugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:28:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28965378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literati42/pseuds/literati42
Summary: Faramir struggles with a bout of depression, but his husband Éomer knows exactly what he needs.
Relationships: Éomer Éadig/Faramir (Son of Denethor II)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 38





	On Stormy Days the Same

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for the wonderful reception to my first LOTR story!   
> I've been in a not great place, and I wrote this story because it was what I needed. I hope it brings you comfort too.

Faramir got up from the bed for the third time that day, feeling the bone-deep weariness settling into him. It felt like it took everything out of him to move the few steps to the window and stare out of it.

“Is today stormy?” said a voice behind him. Faramir turned slowly and saw Éomer standing in the doorway, still in his armor as if he came straight from the stable when he got in from his journey with the Rohirrim. He dropped his helmet on the floor with a clatter, his eyes staying trained on Faramir’s face.

“Yes,” Faramir replied. Outside the window, the sun shone on, but Faramir knew his husband did not refer to the weather beyond this room.

“Come sit with me?” Éomer said, taking a seat on the bed. Faramir pushed his face into a slight smile.

“You’re still wearing your armor.”

Éomer cursed as if he had genuinely forgotten and started to work his way out of it. Faramir walked over and began helping him undo the straps. “How do you forget you’re wearing armor?”

Éomer got it off, letting it clatter to the floor, and turned back to him. Faramir fixed his eyes on the pile of armor. “Is that how a Rider of Rohan treats his armor…”

“Faramir,” Éomer said, his voice gentle, coaxing. “Please.” Faramir finally looked up and met his eyes, saw the worry he knew he would find there. He felt a pain clench his heart. “Will you sit with me?” Éomer asked again, lowering himself to the bed and moving until his back was pressed against the wall. Faramir nodded, crawling onto the bed beside him and curling up against his side. He felt Éomer’s arms encircle him, felt Éomer nestle his chin into the crook of Faramir’s neck. “It is a stormy day today, isn’t it?”

Faramir closed his eyes, leaning into Éomer’s warmth. “You came straight from the stables, didn’t you? How did you know?”

“Beregond mentioned you did not seem yourself, and then he said he had not seen much of you today.”

Faramir felt his shoulders sink as something inside his chest shrunk further. “There was so many tasks I was meant to do, but the heaviness.” He felt the emotions curling up in his throat. “I was meant to work on the archives today. And there are three letters I needed to prepare by my king requested, and I swore to Beregond we would begin to ready for our journey back to Gondor and…” He knew the words were pressing together as he forced them out. “I did none of it.”

“Faramir…”

“All of it will need done tomorrow and we will still be a day behind…”

“Faramir…”

“Now Beregond has noticed, and you interrupted your duties to see to me and what for?” Faramir replied, “Because there is something in me that I am not strong enough to fight back…”

“Faramir.” This time Éomer’s voice was stern enough that Faramir opened his eyes, tilting his head to look at him. Éomer gently put a hand under Faramir’s chin, his thumb rubbing circles into Faramir’s skin.

Faramir felt the tears in his eyes, burning in their desire to escape. “What if my father was right.”  
“No,” Éomer replied, “No. Faramir, nothing he said was right about you. Nothing.”

“He perceived the weakness in me…” Faramir replied.

“He projected it,” Éomer interrupted, “He saw what was not there. You are not weak, Faramir, and you do not have to prove your worth. Not to Beregond, who was merely worried for you. Not to the people of Rohan, who can hardly believe their fortune in the amazing man that wed their king. Certainly not to me.” He leaned in and gently kissed the corner of Faramir’s mouth. “Who loves you more than life itself.” Faramir tilted his head down. “And not to the memory of your father.” Éomer’s voice hardened at the mention of _Denethor_. Faramir knew the hatred that had grown in his husband toward Faramir’s late father. He knew too, it would be so much easier if he could feel as well, but Faramir could not find it in himself to hate his father any more than he could find it in himself to erase the pain of Denethor’s words.

Faramir curled back into Éomer’s arms. “I do not deserve your comfort.”

“That is not true,” Éomer replied, his breath ghosting through Faramir’s hair. “Those words are stirred by the storm clouds in your mind, but they are not truths.” Éomer’s arms around him tightened. “You have told me what you did not do today, what of what you did?”

“I did nothing today,” Faramir replied.

Éomer gently tilted Faramir’s face back up and slowly Faramir opened his eyes to meet his husband’s gaze. “Not so,” Éomer said, “For you are here. You are still here, Faramir. If that is the only thing you did, that is enough.” Éomer gently laid a kiss on his forehead. Faramir leaned into the kiss and then laid his head on his husband’s shoulder, the weight of sitting upright feeling like too much in that moment. Éomer gently kissed his hair and then leaned his head against Faramir’s as well so that each time he breathed, it stirred Faramir’s hair softly. “Did you eat?”

“I ate,” Faramir replied.

“That’s two things.”

“Things people do every day without fanfare.”

“But today they were hard and you did them,” Éomer replied. “Today, you did the hard things, it matters little what those hard things were.”

Faramir shifted out of Éomer’s arms, then laid down, letting his head fall in his husband’s lap. Éomer switched to gently stroking Faramir’s hair. “I am sorry it is me you have to deal with.”

“I am not,” Éomer replied instantly, “Not for one moment of any day since the one you promised to be with me forever. I love you, as much on stormy days as sunny ones.”

Faramir turned his head so he could look up at Éomer. “What if these days never stop happening.”

“I will love you even if they never stop happening.” Éomer leaned down, “May I kiss you.”

Faramir nodded against him and Éomer dropped a gentle kiss on his lips, it was warm and soft and asked nothing of Faramir. Éomer straightened back up and returned to stroking his husband’s hair. 

“I love you, only you. Always you,” Éomer replied, “Stormy days do not change that.”

“You are so certain.”

“Yes,” Éomer said without a second’s hesitation, “I am.” It did not silence the storm clouds in Faramir’s mind, but it quieted them enough he could breathe. Faramir closed his eyes and focused on his husband’s touch.


End file.
